


A Case Of Mysterious Dog Tags

by Bre_ath



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bisexual John, Divorced John, Dog Tags, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Mind Palace, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Repressed John, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre_ath/pseuds/Bre_ath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I recently bought dog tags for a cosplay of mine and this scenario came to mind. I hope you guys like it! it was super fun to write!! Thanks so much for reading in advanced!!</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Case Of Mysterious Dog Tags

**Author's Note:**

> I recently bought dog tags for a cosplay of mine and this scenario came to mind. I hope you guys like it! it was super fun to write!! Thanks so much for reading in advanced!!

The small brain attic technique or as I so fondly call it the mind palace. It is a way of storing and preserving knowledge so that one may use it at a later date. Sifting through all of this information and filing it correctly in said palace is a very important task. It is how all of the information can be kept or stored and it is the foundation of the technique. However, whilst sifting as previously mentioned, I stumbled across a disturbing conjecture. There was something different about my companion, so different in fact that I had decided to store it away for further inspection. Posture? No. Attitude? Slightly subdued but nothing out of the ordinary for a recent divorcee. No. It was what had been hiding beneath the pale green patterned shirt that was laying upon his shoulders. It was the manner in which he took extra care when fastening every last button and the sideways glance he would give anyone that stood too close. A secret. I have documented a staggering amount of detail concerning John Watson and it was not hard to rework the details of his appearance as I sat in the familiar auditorium I frequent. Dark colored jeans with a button down shirt, varying in color and pattern but they were all the same basic design. An ebony belt with a small silver rectangle in the middle to hold it all together. Another one of his usual choices...However the minute silver balled chain dangling from his neck was not a part of his usual attire rotation. It was not difficult to assume what was hanging on the end of the chain but the results of my deductions surprised me. Dog tags of course, from his time served in the British Armed Forces. I suppose sentiment would be a satisfactory answer for the ever daunting question of why. Why on earth would he decide to start wearing old memories now? This was very strange. John, although sentimental, is also a creature of vast habit. He has never felt the need to assert or reminisce his time served as a Captain. In fact only in times of need has he ever brought about the subject at all. I stood in front of the frozen figure of my...companion and circled him slowly, allowing my eyes to rove over his compact and strong form... searching for any other elements of mystery I may have overlooked... Nothing out of the ordinary. Was it the sudden separation? Perhaps he was attempting to rediscover himself without Mary's presence...highly unlikely. Although a kind and loving man, John is not without his own life and personality. He would also not be trying so hard to hide them if he was in the habit of gloating in which he is not. Perhaps it was...fear or...embarrassment? More likely. The embarrassment that dripped from his secretive actions were more than obvious ...but what was he afraid of so suddenly? His habits had gone unchanged and his social life seemed the same dull Grey it had always been. No signs of a threat in that area. I stood directly in front of my very own duplicate of John in wonderment. I have been beaten three times in my life. Twice by men and once by a woman but the mystery of John Watson's dog tags were getting close to a fourth failure. Had I missed a fine detail? It seemed to be such a simple thing and yet John Watson was not a simple man. As I opened my eyes I had a sudden revelation of the solution to my small problem. Where would be the harm in simply asking?   
~~~~

There are few things in this life I enjoy more than an afternoon coffee. It was that or have a nap and I’m not a huge fan of wasting so much time in the day...Also Sherlock always seems to make some sort of comment on my age when I’ve fallen asleep any earlier than midnight. Still I suppose it's better than wasting half of the day away. As I poured the cold and stale coffee out of the pot from the brew before, I felt the familiar jingle of dog tags around my neck. It was almost calming to feel something so recognizable move along with the daily motions of my body. I had been trying to keep the fact that I was wearing them a secret because...well with everything around me changing so fast I just needed something reassuring I suppose. I glanced at Sherlock sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. He must've been in his mind palace again. Anyways it all started with the usual top up appointment with my therapist. I talk and she listens and rebuttal my troubles with the usual tactics and encouragement. More often than not she uses the same drowsy monotone approach but she gets the job done all the same. This visit was a much different experience. I mentioned that I was disappointed that my marriage had ended but that I was coping well and continuing my life with Sherlock as per usual. She leaned forward and set her clipboard aside which made me incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Your life with Sherlock?”

Immediately I knew where this was going but I still hesitated. 

I sighed rolling my eyes slightly 

“Yes but not like that. We are just flatmates that happen to solve...things.”

She sat back in her chair and donned this funny smirk on her face like she knew something that I didn’t. After a long pause I added, 

“We aren’t gay if that's what you are trying to say”

“Would that be a problem for you John? Say if you did like men. What would bother you about that situation? Perhaps if you did have feelings for your flatmate?”

I boiled over. Lets just say that the meeting had ended abruptly and leave it at that. Ever since then I have been thinking and contemplating... I suppose hypothetically speaking nothing would be a problem. I'm sure that Sherlock would just wave his ivory hand in my direction and retort his same “I'm not interested in people” speech and act like I hadn’t uttered a single word about it, but for some reason the whole scenario made me... well...afraid. Afraid of rejection or worse yet cold, hard dismissal. So because of my insecurities...I wear these tags. They identify me when lately even on the best of days I can't. I turned to glance at Sherlock's entranced state, assuming his meditative far away pose, only only to find his intense azure eyes open and staring in my direction.

I visibly startled “Shit! You scared me!”

He rose from his position on the floor and strode towards me in his usual long legged fashion. Instead of stopping a few feet in front of me he continued until he was centimeters away. My body froze and my voice shook 

“Sherlock what are you...”

His head cocked to the side and he squinted inquisitively. How I wish the counter cabinet was not behind me to entrap me. 

“John what are you afraid of.”

I felt the blood rush to my face as I attempted to move away to no avail.

“Nothing! Why? What are you...”

Again his behavior shocked me. He reached gradually for my top button and popped it open effortlessly, sloping his hand down near my neck and tugged out the dog tags I had tucked away so carefully.

“What are you afraid of John?” He repeated with a low tone resembling thick dark chocolate smearing it's way into my senses. I lost composure and leaned closer to his ever tempting lips while my simple response disobeyed my commands, “This.”   
Our lips where decimals away from connecting when a knock on the door came abruptly followed by the opening of the front door. The recognizable voice of Mrs. Hudson rang through the open crack in the door. 

“Sherlock there is someone here to see you” 

Much to my pleasant surprise he huffed in disgust and glared in disappointment. 

“In a minute!” He looked at me and grinned wickedly as he let the dog tags around my neck slip from his grip and fall back to there original state, “Perhaps we should finish this...discussion later. Which I very much hope that we do. I find it unfathomably ...fascinating...”


End file.
